Stories of the Humboldt Wagon Road

By Andy Mark

Before the completion of the transcontinental railroad, there was the Chico and Humboldt Wagon Road, meant to connect California with the burgeoning mining industries of Nevada and Idaho. The ambitious plan to make Chico a major Northern California transportation hub was spearheaded by John Bidwell and began in earnest in 1864. The road opened new areas to mining and logging and provided opportunities for less scrupulous characters. Stagecoach robberies, murders and shootouts were just some of the misfortunes that occurred on the road, along with the dangers nature provided--snowstorms, perilous terrain and grizzly bears. Author Andy Mark offers a glimpse of what it was like for nineteenth-century travelers and settlers on the route of the Humboldt Wagon Road.

• Language: English
• Publisher: The History Press
• Release date: Oct 12, 2020
• ISBN: 9781439669785

Andy Mark

Andy Mark worked as a brakeman and conductor on the Western Pacific and Union Pacific Railroads for twenty-one years before going back to college. A graduate of CSU-Chico, he spent sixteen years as a statistical consultant and data analyst before retiring in 2013. He is the author of two published articles, as well as a book on local history titled The West Branch Mill of the Sierra Lumber Company. Andy enjoys hiking in the backcountry, and he and his wife, Jill, are longtime rock hounds.

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INTRODUCTION

A DESCRIPTION OF THE ROAD

The Chico and Humboldt Wagon Road began where Chico’s Main Street joined a short section of road (eventually referred to as Oroville Avenue), which connected Broadway to Park Avenue. This was called the Junction, and there was an open area large enough to turn horses and wagons around for travel in a desired direction. The Junction was a hub for stages, pack trains and freight arriving from places as far away as San Francisco and Idaho. It was a busy terminal, and at one time or another, it had stables, blacksmiths, hotels, restaurants, saloons, drugstores, clothing stores, a Chinese laundry, a grocery store and other businesses to accommodate the land traveler.

People leaving the Junction eastbound for the hills found themselves immediately engulfed in dust during the dry season, as the road crossed over a valley floor beaten down and churned up by the hooves of bovines and equines and the wheels of the vehicles that were pulled behind them. During the wet season, this surface turned into slick mud, creating conditions that made it hard to keep vehicles from sliding around. Passing through this carpet of grassland interspersed with majestic valley oaks, the road roughly followed the course of Little Chico Creek, and a rider could begin the trip by viewing the lush riparian woodland—with sycamores, cottonwoods and willows—only a short distance away. If a person was lucky (or unlucky, depending on one’s viewpoint), he or she might see a grizzly bear looking for a quick meal in the creek while squirrels scurried about the trees and vultures soared overhead.

The Junction, seen in the lower right of the map. Bidwell’s mansion is at the top. From Official Map of the County of Butte, California, 1877, compiled by James McGann. Courtesy of Library of Congress.

About three miles from the Junction, the road started to climb the foothills on a ridge separating Big Chico Creek and Little Chico Creek. As the slope ascended, the surrounding grassland was interrupted by a scattering of blue oak, with clumps of buckbrush and poison oak making a strong appearance. One might notice a few black-tailed deer feeding on the vegetation or a coyote trotting through the grass looking for a rodent meal.

Here, the surface of the land became hard and rocky—the solidified remains of the gradual breakdown of an ancient volcano called Mount Yana, which was located some forty miles away northwest, as the crow flies. The debris flows, called the Tuscan Formation, occurred one after another over an extended period of time between three and four million years ago. One can imagine how huge waves of mud and rock jumble streamed down the west slope of the mountains and slowly grinded to a halt. These were geologically violent times, and the remains were harsh as well. Riding over this bumpy stretch of road in a vehicle probably felt rough enough to rattle your teeth loose. To make matters worse, the iron-rimmed wheels of heavy freight wagons would gradually form deep ruts in the hard surface, which were very difficult to get out of when meeting an oncoming vehicle.

The Junction, with Main Street in the center, circa 1885. Courtesy of CSU, Chico, Meriam Library, Special Collections.

Speaking of annoying grooves in the ground, vehicles might also encounter a trench placed at a right angle to the road that was dug out to allow water runoff. Folklore has it that one of these was affectionately referred to by gentlemen stage riders as a Thank you, m’am because the sudden jolt from running over one may offer the opportunity to squeeze in a little closer to a female passenger sitting nearby. In fact, those four-wheeled wooden boxes with thick leather straps that stretched underneath the body of the coach to act as shock absorbers offered little in the way of comfort, so a passenger squeezed in next to you may have been your best cushion.

The first watering stop, at around nine hundred feet elevation, was about six miles from the Junction. It was called Hog Springs, supposedly because wild hogs used to quench their thirst there. One noticed that the gray pines, with their large cones and open, broom-like tops, began here. Throughout the early years of the road, a few refreshment and lodging stands tried to make a go of it at this spot along the road, but each ultimately failed, so most of the time, this was nothing more than a place to rest and wet your whistle. It was probably still too close to Chico for anything to be permanently established here.

Riders packed into the Prattville stage. Courtesy of CSU, Chico, Meriam Library, Special Collections.

From there, the road continued to ride atop the exposed Tuscan Formation, and as the elevation increased, the chaparral began to cover the rocky soils. Dense shrub, such as buckbrush and manzanita, joined the buckeye and live oak on the rising slope. This is where a rider might first catch a glimpse of a black bear, as hollowed-out logs, rock piles and caves became more available for resting or hiding. A mountain lion might be perched high on some rock outcropping, watching an unaware traveler’s every move.

The next watering stop was about ten miles from the Junction. Because there were no wells or large springs nearby, an adequate amount of water was unavailable here until a system was developed that transported water in barrels from sources in nearby canyons. This was the closest location to Chico that eventually became a well-established way station, offering food, liquid refreshments, lodging (although meager) and a barn.

A few miles farther, at about two thousand feet, the ponderosa pines began to overtake the gray variety before a mixed conifer forest quickly emerged with incense cedars, Douglas firs and sugar pines. Black oaks became more noticeable, and a few miles farther, tan oaks began to show up. As a result, the road softened a bit with pine and fir needles and oak leaves carpeting the ground. As the road passed through this harvestable timber belt, communities were established along the way with more meal and lodging accommodations available for a traveler.

The road continued to climb through the mixed conifer forest, and at about thirty miles from Chico, it began to ascend a steep portion before reaching the Little Summit, located about thirty-three miles from town at the 4,700-foot elevation. This was the first spot since leaving the valley where travelers would encounter an extended downhill. The view from this place was truly awe inspiring. Lassen Peak, only about thirty miles away, could be seen standing high above the rest of the wondrous mountain landscape. On a clear day, one would only have to turn a few degrees northwest to capture a view of the top of Mount Shasta, about 100 miles away, peeking over some intervening ridges.

After a descent of about one and a half miles, the road began to level out and roll slightly up and down through a stretch of woodland interspersed with lush green meadows. Much of this section followed the course of Butte Creek, and the next six miles would develop into a popular resort area with excellent hunting and fishing opportunities. Hotels, cabins and camping sites were readily available. It was a place where people from Chico could go to escape the brutal summertime heat of the valley.

Soon after, the road began another steep ascent to what was called the Big Summit (often referred to in the news as simply the summit) at around 6,600 feet elevation and about forty-five miles from Chico. It was the highest point on the road, and winter snow could accumulate up to as much as 20 feet. The traveler was rewarded with another gorgeous panoramic view of the surrounding mountains. Again, one could clearly see the majestic Lassen Peak dominating the view to the north. From there, the road descended steeply around sharp curves and through a thick belt of red fir before eventually straightening out and dropping into one of the loveliest mountain valleys that a tired traveler could ever wish for.

At around 5,500 feet elevation, the bright green valley floor was nourished by a little waterway that passed through it called Butt Creek. Groves of quaking aspen trees lined the road and could be seen scattered throughout the lush meadowland. Pine trees bordered the roadway. The last established rest stops before reaching Big Meadows and the town of Prattville were located in this valley. What a rejuvenating place it must have been. With towering mountain ridges above, one felt sheltered and could really think of the stifling valley heat as a distant memory. One can imagine what it may have felt like for a weary traveler to stop and relax at this place, where you can still sit underneath a grove of aspens and listen to the whisper of the cool mountain breeze as the rustling leaves move speckled sunlight across closed eyelids.

Fisherman at Butte Meadows, circa 1900. Courtesy of CSU, Chico, Meriam Library, Special Collections.

Boating on the river in Big Meadows, circa 1889. Courtesy of Chester–Lake Almanor Museum.

The Humboldt Road descended for about another fifteen miles or so, passing through pine forests and mountain meadows with little creeks full of tasty trout just waiting to leap into a frying pan. It eventually met with two other major roads (one coming from Oroville and a branch from another coming from Red Bluff) before reaching the town of Prattville. Located in what was then called the Big Meadows area, the original town of Prattville was about sixty-five miles from Chico and at around 4,500 feet elevation. (It was subsequently submerged when Lake Almanor was formed in 1914.) Prattville was another tourist magnet with a reputation for excellent fishing, hunting and many other mountain activities nearby. People from Chico often traveled to Prattville for vacation.

After making a steep climb out of Big Meadows, the road mostly passed through more pine forests and meadowland at a relatively constant elevation but with a few more steep hills along the way, until it finally reached the town of Susanville on the drier eastern slope of the Sierras, at around 4,200 feet elevation and about one hundred miles from Chico. Nearby was Honey Lake, a dry lakebed for part of the year. This country was where the pine trees came to an end and the sagebrush began to dominate.

Travelers headed to Idaho or Nevada from Susanville would generally follow Noble’s Emigrant Trail for a way. At first, the terrain was dry and mostly grassland with few trees. About forty-five miles from Susanville, the road arrived at Rush Creek, where a reliable water source was available year-round. There was good camping here, too, with large cottonwood trees providing much-needed shade.

The second Prattville hotel was constructed in 1877, after the first one burned down. Courtesy of Chester–Lake Almanor Museum.

Spliced together photos giving a panoramic view of Susanville, with Main Street on the left, circa 1885. Courtesy of Special Collections, UC Davis Library.

Eventually, the road wound its way through Smoke Creek Canyon. After leaving the small gorge, one was presented with an awe-inspiring view of an expansive wasteland directly ahead. This is now referred to as the Smoke Creek Desert, a roughly thirty-five-mile-long and, at some places, eight- to nine-mile-wide playa. For much of the year, the floor of the dark cream to white basin is dry and cracked. It is made of sediments deposited by the ancient Lake Lahontan during the last Ice Age and is devoid of life, thanks to thousands of years of evaporation that concentrated minerals and salts into an inhospitable environment for plants and animals. Following the northwestern edge of this salt flat for almost forty miles, the road traveler would take advantage of springs located along the way before finally arriving at what is now called the Black Rock Desert, an even larger playa left over from that same ancient lake.

The weather conditions in this land can be unforgiving. In the summer, you often have to contend with hot days and cold nights. When the sun is out, you may find yourself acting like the rest of the desert creatures, seeking shade, any shade. Fickle winds can persist for days, sucking the moisture from your body until you feel like an old, dried-up piece of toast. It’s a place where dust devils dance across the desert floor like ghostly ballerinas and dust storms can envelop a wandering soul like a thick blanket of fog, making it difficult to breathe.

In the winter, it’s just downright cold all of the time. Snow accumulations may not be deep, but the windchill factor clearly makes up for it.

The Black Rock Desert is probably best known for its highly publicized annual Burning Man festival that, since 1990, has taken place every summer around Labor Day. However, did you know that the sound barrier was first officially broken on land on this playa? A jet-propelled car named Thrust SSC scooted across the desert floor at about 763 miles per hour in October 1997. There was much anticipation and some anxiety prior to the event because, for one thing, no one knew for sure what would happen to the supersonic car when it reached the sound barrier. There was uncertainty about whether the shockwaves from breaking the barrier might flip the vehicle over and send it careening upside-down across the desert floor at more than 700 miles per hour. Thankfully, that did not happen. The British driver, Andy Green, survived. His reward for this brave feat was a prominent place in the record books. Now that was a historical event.

Travelers on the Chico and Humboldt Wagon Road who were headed for Idaho and the Humboldt mining district would go beyond this area. However, our description of the old highway ends here, simply because the stories in this book essentially go no farther.

Road from Chico to the Black Rock Desert. From 1865 map sketched by Captain John Mullen (spelled Mullan in the news). Courtesy of CSU, Chico, Meriam Library, Special Collections.

1

1860S

The Road to the Mines

OVERVIEW

History tells us that, from early adulthood, John Bidwell was an adventurous person who was willing to take some risks. At twenty-one years old, in the spring of 1841, he became a member of the first group of American settlers traveling overland to a region that was eventually named the state of California. (At that time, it was still Mexican territory.) The expedition was later known as the Bidwell-Bartleson Party